The Last Phoenix (7 page)

“Yes, come on, let's get back to Milly,” urged Jess, feeling strangely disquieted. She supposed that two Michaels and two Jasons side by side were enough to disquiet anyone.

But as she led the way back to the little garden outside the workshop, a chill ran through her.

Milly had disappeared!

M
illy raced down the path. The big town clock, towering above the surrounding houses, gave the time as five forty-five p.m. Everyone who had been at the auditions would be just about to find out what parts they were going to have!
I'll be able to listen in,
she thought.

Her heart pounded as she ran onward. She knew she had to be careful. If someone noticed that she was both inside and outside the hall…

I shouldn't be doing this,
she thought. But something seemed to be pushing her on. She
had
to know if she got the part!

She crossed the road and ran up to the gates that led to the church hall. But as she reached them she stopped. There was a group of people waiting outside the hall, and coming out through the doors were all her friends from the drama group! The auditions must have finished slightly early and the announcement been made. Milly hastily slipped into the cover of the bushes beside the gate—then looked at the
doors and caught her breath. Her stomach rolled over as she saw herself standing there—pale and stunned, eyes full of tears.

“Well?”

Milly jumped about a foot in the air as she heard Jess's uncertain voice just in front of her.

Jess—the Future Jess—broke out of the crowd of people in the parking lot and hurried forward. Future Milly hurled herself into her stepsister's arms, tears streaking down her face.

Milly felt sick, like she couldn't remember how to breathe. The look of shock on her future face—and the tears—said it all.
I won't be Annie
. The thought burned in her head.
I was right. I'm
not
good enough. I'm going to mess everything up
.

Future Jess put her arms around Future Milly. “It's okay. Don't worry…”

It was too much. Milly couldn't bear to see any more. With tears stinging her eyes, she turned and ran back across the road and up the path. Despite everything she'd said to the others, she'd hoped that maybe she
would
be good enough to be Annie. But she wasn't. She climbed back over the fence, a heavy dullness filling her heart. As she approached she saw Jess, Michael, and Jason searching around and looking worried.
They know I've gone off
somewhere,
she realized.
If I tell them what I've seen, I'll never hear the end of it.

She crept up to a tree, drew on all her acting ability and fixed a bright smile on her face. “Boo!” she shouted, jumping out from behind it. “Tricked you!”

“Milly!” Jess complained. “That's not funny!”

“It's lame,” Michael agreed. But then he froze. The clouds were floating away from the sun, and hard shadows stretched out on the ground behind them.

“Quick!” Jess cried.

Michael pulled the feather with the crystal out of his pocket and held it up to the sky. As the sun hit the top of it, the gem seemed to flare but then the light ebbed away once again. “It's still not strong enough.”

“Not yet…” Jason held up the magnifying glass, angling the sun's rays against the feather and the gemstone. “But if I use my new magnifying glass to concentrate the sunbeam…”

“I think it's working!” whispered Milly.

The little crystal glowed again, more and more fiercely. The light within it suddenly burst forth, blinding white. The Worthingtons all blinked, and for a moment each of them saw a bright white gem shape etched onto the inside of their eyelids. When they opened their eyes again the fierce sunlike blaze had gone, but the crystal was glowing
and glittering in Michael's hand, golden light swirling around inside it.

They stared in silent awe for a few seconds.

“Good one, Jase,” said Michael. “It's worked!”

Jason cheered. “We've got the shaft of tomorrow's sunlight Fenella needs!”

“Wow!” breathed Milly, her sadness almost forgotten in the excitement of completing the phoenix's first magical task.

Michael held out the feather. “Let's get back to Fenella and let her do her gold-spinning thing!”

The Worthingtons hurried back into the shed. Jason set down the magnifying glass outside the workshop door for his future self to collect, as he'd agreed. “Thank you, me,” he whispered.

Then Michael held the feather out. They all touched it.

Michael took a breath.
“Time of yore, be never gone!”

Milly felt herself swirling round again but this time going in the opposite direction. Golden flashes filled her vision, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. No sooner had the journey begun than it ended, and a huge relieved screech made her and the others jump into the air.

Fenella was sitting on a workbench, hopping from leg to leg in anxiety. “Oh, dearies!” she squawked. “What a
relief! Thank goodness you're back safe and sound. All of a quiver I was!”

“Me too,” Milly whispered, thinking back to the scene outside the church hall. “I'm glad we don't have to go back to the future.”

“What was I thinking?” Fenella cried theatrically. “Sending you off like that into goodness knows what!”

“We got your shaft of sunlight!” Jason said eagerly.

“Here,” said Michael, holding up the feather with its swirling, beautiful gemstone.

“Oh, you wonderful children!” The phoenix rubbed her head affectionately against Michael's arm. “Not that some silly sunlight matters as much as knowing you're all safe, of course.” She blinked up at him through her eyelashes.

“We're fine,” Michael said gruffly.

She gave him an expectant look and he tentatively stroked her head. “Oooh, that hits the spot, lovie, oh, yes…”

Michael scratched a bit harder and Fenella, in her enjoyment, spun about on the spot—and suddenly, her tail burst into flames.

“Whoa!” Michael yelled, leaping backward.

“Oh, my goodness me,” squawked Fenella in alarm. “I just can't control my body heat at the moment—I'm like that kiln, you can't turn me off! None of you were hurt, were you?”

Michael sucked his burned fingers. “Nothing a bit of gold wouldn't cure.”

“Don't be so rude,” Jess hissed.

“That's not rude, Jess, lovie, it's forthright!” Fenella winked at Michael. “Isn't it, my pet?”

Michael grinned and presented the feather to the phoenix. The crystal at the base of it glowed and sparkled.

Fenella clapped her wings together. “A shaft of tomorrow's sunshine—just what the genie egg-doctor ordered!”

“We had to go a few days into the future, is that okay?” asked Jason anxiously, remembering it had been his idea.

“Oh, that's just fine,” said Fenella gaily. “A ray of sunshine from any old tomorrow will do. Silly me, forgetting to mention that! I don't know what my mind's doing at the moment.” She placed the feather on the workbench beside her. “Now, gather around, my little ducklings!”

They all moved closer, exchanging looks of anticipation.

Fenella walked once around the feather, rustled her wings and then began to sing. Her voice was beautiful, low and soft, but gradually rising. The crystal started to vibrate, golden light swirling round inside it like a mini tornado. It began to hum. For a few seconds the phoenix and the crystal held the same note and then Fenella stopped singing and touched her beak to the top of the
crystal. It continued to shake and hum and she pulled a long golden strand out of the crystal with her beak. The children watched in astonishment as she extracted more and more of the gold, passing it down to her left foot and, from there, to her right. Michael couldn't stop staring as Fenella's talons started to flit about in a lightning-quick dance, the gold thread passing from one foot to another almost as if she was knitting at superspeed with her claws. Milly tried to see what she was doing but the phoenix was moving too quickly now, her beak constantly passing down a new supply of the seemingly endless gold thread.

“Look!” Milly said as from under Fenella's right claw a small rectangle of smooth gold began to emerge.

“She's turning the thread into solid gold!” whispered Jason.

Fenella glanced at him. “
Weaving
is the correct expression, lovie,” she said around the strand in her beak, before turning her attention back to the task.

“Whatever it is, it's amazing!” said Jess.

Michael nodded, his eyes fixed on the gold rectangle. “Awesome…”

On and on Fenella went, and soon there was a pile of golden rectangles—each the size and shape of a credit card—and a neatly rolled up ball of gold string, tied up tightly.

The light in the crystal flickered and went out. Fenella lifted her beak from the feather. She looked proud but tired. “Phoenix gold!” she said in a low, breathless voice. “The string's for my nest but the sheets are for you. I said I'd pay you well for your efforts to help me, dearies, and here you are—three bars each. Priceless, they are. Priceless!”

Jess gulped. “You…you don't
have
to pay us, you know.”

Milly nodded. “We're glad to help you. You're amazing.”

“As are
you
, my pets,” said Fenella with a puffed-out smile. “It's a pleasure to spoil such deserving young chickadees. Now, don't be shy. Come up and help yourselves!”

“Well, if you insist…” Michael stepped up and grabbed three of the little slabs for himself and three for Milly.

Milly took them from him carefully and stared in wonder. Smooth and glowing, each one felt warm and tingly in her hand. As she moved it in the light, it gave off a deep reddish gleam. “They're beautiful,” she murmured. “Thank you, Fenella.”

Jason nodded as he counted out three more. “Yes, thank you.”

“They're gorgeous,” breathed Jess, taking hers.

“It's gold!” said Michael, his eyes gleaming. “Gold, gold, lovely gold!”

“I could tell you some tales about the times I've been ordered to weave it,” said Fenella, still panting softly for breath. “I've been captured, held prisoner, deprived of food until I gave in…dreadful situations! There was this one time when Sultan Ibrahim the First of the Ottoman Empire caught me in a net…” She covered her eyes as if it was too horrible to remember.

“Oh, you poor thing,” said Milly.

“You look worn out after all that weaving,” said Jess. “You should rest now. We'll come again tomorrow.”

Michael shrugged. “Beats getting ready for school the next day.”

Fenella sighed. “Oh, you are a tonic, my loves. I'm so pleased I found you. Now I can sleep soundly at night again.” She stifled a yawn with a wing. “And I
am
rather spent.”

“Bye-bye,” Milly whispered, kissing the bird on her head. Jason and Jess stroked her wings, and even Michael patted her awkwardly on the back.

“Bye, lovies.” Her eyes began to close and she flapped clumsily back into the kiln. “Maybe if I just have forty winks…” She tucked her head under her wing, and soon she was snoring softly, glowing in the red heat of the furnace. Jess carefully closed the kiln door.

“Wa-hoo—we're loaded!” Michael cried gleefully,
starting outside. “Who needs the lottery? I don't know why I looked so fed up in the future. All we have to do is turn this gold into cash and then the fun really starts!”

“
Fun!
Fun, he says!” A familiar mumbling, grumbling voice broke through the air behind them. The children stared at each other for a long, electric moment. “I might have known it. I might have expected it…”

Milly was first to swing round. Floating beside the shed on a little pink cloud was a funny-looking worm with a drooping mustache and a purple genie turban on his head.

“I don't believe it!” she squealed. “It's Skribble!”

S
kribble's tiny dark eyes gleamed above his mustache. His segmented body trembled as he bobbed about on the pink cloud.

Jason beamed. “Skribble, is it really you?”

“Course it is!” A grin spread over Michael's face. “The grumpiest genie in the world.”

“Grumpy, I? I, who have impressed popes and princes with my sweet nature? Huh!” Skribble looked set for a major huff, but then his expression softened. “Greetings to you all, my young friends.”

“This is so brilliant!” Milly ran to the cloud and looked at the magical bookworm in delight. “I've missed you
tons
. Where did you come from? What are you doing here? Can you stay?”

Skribble looked a little awkward. “I'm afraid I cannot, Milly. I have come here to…” He made a strange strangled squawk. “To…” He opened and closed his mouth, as if struggling for words. “I…I…”

The children exchanged looks. Normally, nothing in the world could stop Skribble from speaking.

“What's the matter?” Jason asked.

“The matter?” Skribble blustered. “Why…the only thing that's the matter around here is the four of you and your attitude!”

Jess frowned. “Pardon?”

“You have all accepted a most vital quest to help that dear phoenix, and time is very short,” said Skribble imperiously. “I know how easily distracted you all are. Heads full of straw, the lot of you!” He glanced at Michael. “I particularly know the effect phoenix gold can exert on the human soul.”

“Are you spying on us?” asked Michael indignantly.

“No, but…” Skribble paused, his face contorted as if in pain. “I must warn you that you must proceed with your good work with all possible speed. There is no time to waste.”

“Are you sure you're all right, Skribble?” Milly frowned.

Skribble looked at her closely. “You should know by now that where magic is concerned, great danger may be lurking.”

“Danger?” Jason echoed nervously.

“That map, the one I gave Fenella.” Skribble nodded his
head toward Jason. “Do you have it?”

Jason pulled it out of his pocket and unrolled it. “It's here.”

“Study it well,” said Skribble. “Look at the map closely. Make sure that you—and Fenella—read and digest every…single…syllable!” With each word he spoke he bobbed up and down. He looked fiercely at Michael and then back pointedly to the map. Michael followed the direction of the genie's tiny eyes to the words at the bottom:
KNOW YOURSELF, TRUST YOURSELF, BELIEVE IN YOURSELF
. “Think clearly!” Skribble exclaimed, looking back at him. “Remember what you learned while following
The Genie Handbook
, and heed those lessons well.”

“Okay, keep your mustache on, Worm,” said Michael.

“Are you sure nothing's wrong, Skribble?” asked Milly.

“Wrong? Goodness, no. What could be wrong?” Skribble shook his head. “Simply remember that there…there is always one who watches…Watches
closely
…”

Jess looked uneasy. “Who?”

“My time has run out. I must leave you!” Skribble gabbled. “Delay no longer, but be careful, dear children—
please
be careful!”

“But Skribble, we know we're all right,” Michael pointed out. “We've seen ourselves in the future.”

Skribble shook his head. “Nothing is set in stone where magic is involved.”

“Please, Skribble,” Milly urged him. “Can't you just tell us who is watching us and—”

“Farewell, my brave friends,” said Skribble. He started to swirl around and around on his cloud, faster and faster. “Remember what I have told you…” With a faint pop, Skribble and his cloud disappeared.

For a moment the four Worthingtons just stood there staring at the empty air where Skribble had been.

“What
has
he told us?” Milly felt utterly baffled. “Where's he gone?”

“And where did he come from?” said Jason.

Jess frowned. “It was like he was trying to encourage us and warn us at the same time.”

“‘There is one who watches closely,'” Milly quoted with a little shiver.

“Maybe it's Mr. Milton,” Michael suggested. “Spying on us from his rosebushes!”

Jason frowned. “I wonder what Skribble
did
mean?”

“You know the worm,” said Michael, shrugging. “He's worse than Milly for making a drama out of nothing.”

“Hey!” Milly protested.

“Anyway, right now we've got other things to think about,” Michael went on, pulling his three gold cards out of his pocket. “Like how to cash in these! The shops are only open for another hour or so. I'm going to go into town right now and see who'll swap this for some real money.”

Milly stared at him. “You're really going to sell Fenella's gold?”

“Yeah. So what?” Her look of disappointment bothered him, but he refused to show it.

Milly bit her lip. “But Fenella gave us that gold—it's special, it's amazing, it's…from
her
.”

“But I've promised the guys a night out tonight. Look, I won't sell all of it,” Michael countered. “I just really need some cash if I'm going to get my mates back.”

Milly looked skeptical. “If they were really your mates you wouldn't need to keep them with money.”

“Oh, stick to singing your boring songs, Annie!” said Michael crossly. “I'm out of here!”

Without a backward glance he jogged away through the clearing, along the driveway and started heading back into town. But as he ran along the footpath he knew he had only blown up at Milly because she was making sense. Even so, what was he supposed to do—give up and let Rick nick all his friends? He put his hand in his pocket and felt the phoenix gold.
When I buy Rick his hot dog later,
Michael thought,
I hope he chokes on it
.

Thankful that even in Moreways Meet the shops were open till six on a Saturday, his first stop was the jewelers on High Street. They had a sign in their window that said
WE BUY GOLD
—perfect!

The woman in the shop was starchy and pale with thick blond curls. Her cherry-red lips were pursed in disapproval as he wandered up to the counter in his scruffy jeans and rugby shirt.

“Hi,” he began, trying his most winning smile. “You buy gold, yeah?”

“Sometimes,” said the woman guardedly.

“You'll want to buy this.” Michael pulled one of the pieces of phoenix gold out and slapped it on the counter.

The woman's eyebrows shot up so far they were almost lost in her hairdo. She picked the gold up and held it to the light, turning it around and looking at it from all angles. It gleamed softly. “It's beautiful,” she said slowly. “Like nothing I've ever seen.” Her expression hardened as she turned back to Michael. “Where did you get it?”

“It used to be my gran's,” he lied. “She left it to me in her will, and now I need to trade it.”

“Do you, indeed?” the woman said, looking more closely at the gold. “Well, it hasn't got a hallmark. It isn't real gold.”

“Course it is,” Michael blustered.

“I'm not sure
what
it is,” she went on, engrossed. “And besides, you're a minor. I'd need your parents' permission to even value it.” She looked at him again. “I'll give you a form if you like and you can get them to fill it in.”

Michael's palms were sweating. “Can't you just buy it off me right now? Say, a hundred quid?”

The woman frowned at him. “Look, what's going on? Where did you really get this? What's your address?”

The questions hit Michael like a barrage of bullets. His nerve broke and he snatched the gold back from her and barged back out the door.
Stupid,
he told himself.
She'll probably call the cops now, thinking you nicked it
.

Quickening his step, he headed toward the dowdy little maze of crooked alleys that led to his back-up plan—the secondhand shop, Junk and Disorderly. It was here that they'd left Skribble in the genie lamp after saying good-bye. It was weird how he had showed up outside Milton's house, waffling on like that.

Michael lingered in the cobbled street outside the junk shop awhile and caught his breath. If he looked furtive or anxious, the owner—Barry, his name was—might think the gold was dodgy too. And Michael knew this was his last chance to get the bar cashed in time to hit the multiplex that night.

He pushed open the door. Barry looked up from his dog-eared paperback and nodded vaguely. “All right, son?”

“It's your lucky day, Barry,” said Michael. “I need some cash, pronto, so I'm having to sell this family heirloom.”

He held up the phoenix gold. But the windows were so
grimy and the side street so gloomy that little light could sneak in to show its sparkle. Even so, Barry put down his paperback. “What's that then? It's not gold, is it?”

“It's a special type of gold,” said Michael, nodding knowledgeably. “It was left to me by a long-lost uncle from Cairo.”

“Ah.” Barry gave him an indulgent smile. “Your mum and dad know you're selling it, do they?”

Michael nodded. “Yeah, course they do.”

“And they thought you'd get the best price for a special type of gold down at Barry's old junk shop, did they?” He shook his head. “Sorry, son, I can't touch that for you. If I put a thing like that in my window, I'd have your parents kicking up a storm, or the police around asking questions, all sorts of bother.” He picked up his paperback again. “And I don't do bother.”

“Fine,” Michael retorted, his cheeks burning. “I'll take it somewhere else and let them have the bargain of the century.”

“Any reputable place will give you the same answer I did, son,” Barry assured him.

Suddenly there was a clatter from the back of the shop. Michael looked over and saw a figure watching him from behind a teetering tower of cardboard boxes. A man in a raincoat, his hair an unkempt gray thatch, his eyes dark
and piercing. A metal teapot had just fallen out of a box near his feet.

“Need help with anything, mate?” called Barry.

The man shook his head. But his eyes remained on Michael.

A shiver ran through Michael's body. “There is always one who watches,” Skribble had said. For a moment Michael was put in mind of the two genies from the Genie Council who'd come after them in search of their magical handbook. The scruffy man didn't look like the slick, smartly dressed genies, but there was something strangely similar about his sharp, dark gaze…And Jess and Milly had seen those genies first in this very junk shop.

Michael turned and stormed out without another word. Once outside he ran along the zigzagging alleyway and onto the main road, his heart pounding. But there was no sign that he was being followed, and once back on the sunny, milling High Street, his fears soon faded. But his money worries did not.

“Dumb phoenix,” he muttered to himself as he ran along the street. “Unless I can come up with some cash before eight o'clock, I'm doomed!”

 

Jason lay on his bed, still turning his gold over in his hands. The whole day had been unbelievable, and it was all he could do not to run around babbling about it to
anyone who'd listen.
Like anyone would ever believe me,
he thought wryly.
Anyway, it's so cool to have a real, incredible secret again….
He couldn't wait to go on their next magic mission.

Suddenly there was a pounding on the stairs, and the next moment Michael burst in through the bedroom door. He looked out of breath and his hair was spiked up with sweat. “Jase, mate.” He panted. “How much cash have you got on you?”

“Huh?” Jason frowned. “Didn't you sell your gold, then?”

“I couldn't! No one would take it off me.” He got down on his knees in front of the bed. “I'm begging you, Jase, old buddy—lend me your cash.”

“But I haven't got much,” Jason protested. “I put some into my savings account last week.”

“That's not fair!” Michael groaned. “If you've got enough to put into a savings account, you should let me have some!” He slumped down on Jason's bed. “It's hopeless. I said I'd pay for Rick, Josh, Sam, and Thomas to go to the multiplex tonight, with hot dogs, popcorn, the works. I thought I'd be set after helping that crazy bird. Instead, I've got as much cash as I had this morning—one pound thirty-eight.”

“I've got three pounds you can borrow,” Jason offered.

“That's, like, three quarters of one hot dog.” Michael
shook his head. “What am I gonna do? Dad won't give me another loan. Even if he did, I'd be paying it off forever.”

Jason shrugged. “Pretend to be sick.”

“I've made the offer now,” said Michael miserably. “They'll expect me to treat them when I'm better 'cause I told them I got all this money…”

“So tell them you lost it,” said Jason.

Michael looked at him suddenly. “Tell them?” He smiled and shook his head. “Better than that—I'll
show
them I lost it. With a little help from you, mate.”

“From me?” With dread, Jason recognized the smile on Michael's face as one that meant an “amazing” plan had just occurred to him.

“Come on!” Michael bounced off the bed and dragged Jason to his feet. “Milly's not the only one in this family who can put on a performance—and here's where I'll prove it!”

 

Michael swung his rucksack onto his shoulder and jumped down from the bus as it shuddered to a stop around the corner from the multiplex. Jason was right behind him. They were the only two getting off.

“Thanks for funding our tickets, Jase,” said Michael. “So, this is Quilborough. Well, at least no one knows us.”